


Supernova Goes Pop

by Azazel



Category: Leverage
Genre: Blood, F/M, Implied poly relationship, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 23:59:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3228422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azazel/pseuds/Azazel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parker is cramping something awful so Eliot volunteers to help alleviate the pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernova Goes Pop

The low moaning coming from the couch was not a good sign. It had been at least a week since their last job, and it hadn’t even been a rough one, so Eliot could not for the life of him figure why Parker was making that sound. Sidling closer he peeks over the back of the couch and finds Parker curled on her side, arms crossed over her stomach. It only takes a moment for realization to hit and Eliot slowly blinks. 

“Parker? You okay?”

Parker’s eyes shoot open and she cuts him a sidelong look, growling, “Do I look okay?”

Eliot knows this could be dangerous territory so he treads lightly.

“Anything I can do to help?”

At first he thinks Parker didn’t hear him or is willfully ignoring him. She closes her eyes, the corners of her mouth turning down and a deep furrow appearing between her brows. Finally, after opening and closing her mouth a couple of times, she mumbles, “It hurts and getting off usually helps but I can’t get off with you guys ‘cause you’ll think I’m weird.”

Eliot cannot do much more than blink. Parker, as a rule, is forthright, especially when it comes to sex. She has no problems asking for what she wants from them. Or showing them. So the fact of her feeling too self-conscious to ask for this is more than strange.

It seems he has been silent too long, though, because she shoves herself to her feet, her head down and practically snarls, “See. You think it’s weird. Or gross. Or both”

Moving quickly Eliot catches her around the waist and pulls her against his chest. Smiling into her hair he says, “I don’t. Just took me by surprise is all. Some women don’t want to be touched at all when they’re on their period. Others… it’s all they want. Not your fault so many guys are idiots.”

Parker leans back and squints like she is trying to figure out if he is messing with her or not. 

“So… the blood…?”

“Parker, if blood put me off I’d be out of a job.”

She tilts her head to the right and says, “That’s true. You really don’t think it’s weird then?”

Eliot rolls his eyes and huffs, “C’mere.”

Guiding her by the hips he moves them to one of the mismatched hardback chairs in the dining area. He slides one knee between hers as he sits then slowly pulls her down to straddle his thigh. Her eyes are wide and slightly skittish as he trails his fingertips up the outsides of her thighs and over the tiny blue shorts she is wearing. Her hands twitch against his forearms and goosebumps break out along her skin.

With the slightest tremor in her voice she whispers, “Eliot?”

With a smile that spreads like molasses in winter he slips his thumbs under the hem of her thin tank top and growls, “I got you.”

She bites her bottom lip and her breath rushes out. Her eyes never leave his as she slowly presses her hips down in a tight circle. The callouses on his palms drag on her skin as he pushes her shirt up and over the swell of her breasts. The petal pink of her nipples gets a shade or two darker as they pebble. When he runs his thumbs over the soft skin of the crease under each breast her head falls back as she pants. Bracing her hands against his shoulders she starts to rock her hips in a slow rhythm. He lets one hand fall back to her waist while the other cups her right breast. Her blunt fingernails dig into the fabric of his button down when he rolls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

It had taken them months to finally get Parker to be comfortable with making noise while having sex but, sometimes, she falls back into the old habit of being as quiet as possible. Eliot thinks it may be nerves getting to her still, forcing her concentration inward. Leaning forward suddenly he takes the nipple he had between his fingers between his teeth and bites sharply. Parker’s hands fly to tangle in his hair and her back arches, pressing her hips down and her chest up. He flicks her nipple with his tongue and she rewards him with an inarticulate cry. 

Neither of them is big on kissing, that’s usually Hardison, but when she yanks his head back and attacks his mouth he is not about to complain. Before he knows it she has popped open the buttons of his shirt and is shoving it off his shoulders. There is a sudden whoosh of air when she pulls back to jerk her own shirt over her head and throw it in the direction of the couch. Quick as lightning one small fist is wrapped in the cloth of his undershirt and her eyes flash as bites out, “Off. Now.”

Hiding a smirk Eliot makes a show of slipping his hands out of the cuffs of the button down then sliding the black tank up and off. He thinks this must be what it’s like to be something Parker wants to steal. Her focus is like the lasers she is so fond of. Her breathing has gone low and even and before the silver pendant around his neck can thump against his chest her hands are back. Her fingertips make a map only she can follow but he guesses it is the layout of the ductwork in the MET. No matter how many times she has seen every scar they still seem to fascinate her. She pauses her exploration at each bit of knotty, raised tissue. A bullet graze on his shoulder. A knife wound across his ribs. A scattering of shrapnel high on his hip. They are sensory blank spots for him, each nothing more than the memory of the pain of what caused them. But to her they are like a puzzle. Or a combination. Numbers in a sequence to unlock everything there is to know about him. 

She spreads her fingers over his stomach then slowly curls them into fists, scratching lightly, making the muscles jump. The grin she gives him is somewhat feral but he smiles back. Her eyes dart back down and get caught on the shine of his belt buckle. Humming tunelessly under her breath she reaches with her left hand to loosen his belt and presses the heel of her right hand against the bulge in his jeans. He grunts and flexes his hands on her knees. Even though this isn’t the first time she has done this she does her best to make the movements as smooth as a lift when she pulls the zipper down. She is less careful about the button, though, using both hands to maneuver the little brass stud through the loop.

Parker flows to her feet and hooks her thumbs in the elastic band of her shorts. She won’t meet his eyes as she starts to shift her weight from foot to foot. Using her distraction Eliot lifts his hips and slides jeans and boxer-briefs down. The slap of his erection against his belly gets her attention, though. He quirks an eyebrow at her while wrapping one hand around his shaft and stroking once. He is pretty sure she did not mean to let out the little giggle but she is far more confident when she shimmies out of her shorts and straddles his lap again. 

Her skin is smooth and slightly pale but hot to the touch. Shadows barely show in the dips of her pelvis where the bone is closer to the skin than he would like to see. If he didn’t know better he would think she does not eat enough. Her hands land on his shoulders as she scoots closer, lifting her hips. The head of his cock breaching her is like touching a live wire. Her chest heaves as she slides down bit by bit until she is sitting on his thighs. 

Bracing his hands on her waist he lifts her gently, leaving just the tip of his cock inside her. Parker’s hands shoot out to grab his knees when he lets go and his length is buried in wet heat again. With a hiss she arches her spine then quickly sets a punishing pace, grinding against him, trying to press him deeper with each tilt and swivel of her hips. Her head falls back as she keens, pushing onto the balls of her feet to gain leverage. He strokes her stomach and thighs, occasionally reaching to pinch a nipple. When her rhythm starts to become unsteady he slips his right hand between them to rub her clit with his thumb. Her mouth falls open with a gasp and her hips stutter to a stop.

He is still hard inside her when she leans forward and puts her head on his shoulder. Slipping one hand into the hair at the base of his skull she moans, “So deep. C’mon, Eliot, cum for me.”

Like squeezing a trigger he is pulsing, semen rushing out to mix with her juices. It takes a few seconds for his lungs to remember what breathing is. While Parker has no problems telling them what she wants in bed she rarely indulges in dirty talk. 

Parker is licking her lips when she leans back and gingerly stands. A grunt mixes with a quiet hum as his softening cock slips out of her trailing a mixture of bright red and murky pink fluid.  
Crossing her arms over her chest she narrows her eyes and says, “Guess a shower is next. Come on. You can help me wash your cum off.” She abruptly turns and bends to grab her shorts then marches toward the bedroom. 

Eliot snorts and watches the smear across her upper thighs grow with each step thinking he won’t mind helping her clean up one bit.


End file.
